


Drabble Collection

by DragonofMordor



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 18:45:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6206314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonofMordor/pseuds/DragonofMordor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of drabbles and short Angbang and Silverfisting fics that I've written for various Tumblr challenges or prompts or other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Comfort

Mairon awakened instantly. He heard loud moans beside him. Melkor had turned away from him in the bed and was shaking and moaning. Another nightmare. Mairon closed his eyes, his heart hurting to see Melkor’s pain. The Valar sent him nightmares almost nightly, warning him of what they had planned. It would never come to pass. Mairon would not let it. He would destroy every one of them if he had to. Yet still Melkor was tormented.

“Master,” Mairon said loudly as he shook Melkor.

‘No…no…no,” Melkor cried out. Finally he woke up.

“Master I am here,” Mairon murmured. “You are safe.”

“Mairon,” Melkor said with a shudder. “I was in the Void. I could feel nothing. I was alone.”

“You are never alone, Melkor,” Mairon said softly. “I will always be here. I am never leaving, not even if they try to drag me away.”

“They will take you away from me, Mairon,” Melkor said. “If we lose, they will take me away and throw me into the Void.”

“Then we will not lose,” Mairon said firmly. “You are the most powerful and I am the smartest. Together we are unstoppable. Our forces are strong. The Valar are far away and refusing to get involved. The elves will bend their knees to us and the world will be ours.”

“I know, Mairon,” Melkor murmured. “Yet still I fear.”

“Let me take care of you, then,” Mairon whispered. “I will always be here for you.”

Melkor nodded. Mairon slid over on top of Melkor. He pressed his lips against Melkor’s, just a soft kiss. His fingers caressed against Melkor’s face. He would burn the feel of his touch into Melkor’s mind. He deepened the kiss, pouring all his feelings for Melkor into his lips. Melkor moaned against Mairon’s lips. His own hands came up to caress Mairon’s hair. Mairon pulled his lips away and began planting kisses down Melkor’s face and neck.

“No, Master, let me,” Mairon said as Melkor’s fingers started to move down Mairon’s body. “It is my turn to take care of you.”

Mairon took one of Melkor’s arms in hand and planted kisses along the hand and wrist. He then moved to the other and repeated the kisses. Melkor closed his eyes and sighed. Mairon moved to Melkor’s chest. He planted kisses over every inch of Melkor’s skin. His hands stroked over Melkor’s arms. He wanted to implant the feel of his touch into Melkor’s mind so that not even the nightmares could erase it.

Mairon brushed his lips against Melkor’s nipples. Melkor’s were not as sensitive as Mairon’s, but Melkor still arched up into Mairon’s touch. Mairon sucked on the hard nubs, enjoying the taste of Melkor on his tongue. He followed his lips with his fingers.

Mairon moved his lips lower. He rarely took his time like this. Melkor was usually the one more interested in exploring Mairon’s body. This was about more than just sex, though, and Mairon wanted Melkor to feel him everywhere. Mairon moved his hands to caress down Melkor’s back. He enjoyed the feeling of firm muscles against his fingers. Melkor’s strength awed him, so to see his Master suffer was all the more awful.

Mairon slid his lips down to top the thick patch of curls. He looked up at Melkor with a grin. Then he moved his lips to Melkor’s inner thighs. Melkor groaned. His fingers grasped at Mairon’s hair, trying to pull the Maia up to where he wanted him. Melkor was firmly hard now, and there was nothing in his eyes except arousal. Mairon continued to kiss the inside of Melkor’s legs. Melkor shuddered against him.

“Mairon,” Melkor moaned. “Please. I need you now.”

Finally Mairon slid back up. He gazed down at the length that he loved so much. He planted a kiss on the tip. Melkor twitched. Mairon slid his tongue out and ran it over the tip. Melkor’s fingers buried themselves in Mairon’s hair and tried to tug the Maia down. Mairon only smirked as he planted a series of teasing kisses along the side of Melkor’s length. He was determined to make sure there was nothing in Melkor’s mind but him.

“Now, Precious,” Melkor demanded.

“No commands,” Mairon said. “I’m the one taking care of you.” Yet still, he finally opened his mouth and slid down onto Melkor’s length.

Mairon relaxed his throat and slid all the way down in one smooth slide. Melkor’s hips arched off the bed as the Vala cried out loudly. Mairon grinned around Melkor’s length. He held himself against the patch of curls for a few moments before sliding back off. As he slid back down he stroked his tongue against Melkor in the way he knew his Master loved. He knew Melkor’s body better than he knew his own.

Mairon moaned around Melkor’s length as Melkor tugged against his hair. He felt Melkor twitch at the vibrations. He slid his mouth off and ran his tongue over every inch, paying special attention to the spots he knew would make Melkor react the most. Then he slid the length back into his mouth. His throat spasmed around Melkor. He tried to slide in deeper even though his lips were touching Melkor’s stones.

Melkor’s hips were thrusting up with every stroke of Mairon’s mouth. Mairon knew Melkor was close. He swirled his tongue again, stroking against Melkor’s sensitive tip. Melkor groaned and arched his body as he came in Mairon’s mouth. Mairon reached up and caressed his fingers against Melkor’s stones, milking every last drop of seed. He wanted it all. He never tired of the taste of Melkor.

When Melkor’s orgasm had passed, Mairon slid off his body and slumped back against the bed. Melkor reached down and pulled Mairon into his arms. Mairon let Melkor hold him close. He laid his head down on Melkor’s chest. He wanted more than anything to stop these nightmares. He hated to see Melkor in pain. He would storm Valinor and confront Irmo or even Manwe himself if he thought he could protect Melkor in doing so. It was his job to take care of Melkor.

“Sleep now, Master,” Mairon said softly. “I will watch over you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drabble for someone who required Melkor taking care of an injured Mairon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mairon is injured here. There isn't anything too serious, but mentions of wounds and blood.

Gothmog carries Mairon into the throne room. Blood is dripping onto the floor. Melkor stares in horror. He glares at Gothmog, waiting for an explanation of what happened and who dared hurt his Mairon.

“It was a stray arrow, my Lord. One of the Noldor shot an arrow at Mairon as he was killing one of their kinsmen. Mairon tried to dodge, but it still hit him in the side. The wound is deep and will require the attention of healers, but he should recover with little more than a scar,” Gothmog said as he lay the Maia on the floor.

“Get the healers,” Melkor commanded an orc captain. “Bring all of them. And you, Captain Gothmog, carry Mairon to our bedroom. The healers can deal with him there where he will be much more comfortable.

“Yes, My Lord,” They both replied swiftly.

As the orc captain swiftly left, Gothmog reached down and picked up Mairon again. The Maia let out a moan of pain. Melkor reached out and put his hand on Mairon’s cheek. Mairon moaned again.

“The elf who did this,” Melkor snarled. “Where is he?”

“He is in the dungeons, My Lord. Others sought to kill him in battle, but I commanded that he be taken alive. I knew that you would want to speak with him,” Gothmog said viciously. The Balrog was Mairon’s only friend, and Melkor knew that Gothmog was as enraged at Mairon’s injuries as he himself was.

“Good,” Melkor hissed. “He will soon regret his choice in target.”

Gothmog followed Melkor out of the throne room and down one hall. Melkor led the Balrog through several halls until they finally arrived at the bedroom the Lord of Angband shared with his lieutenant and lover. Melkor opened the door for Gothmog. Gothmog carried Mairon across the room to the bed. Melkor followed. He reached over to pull back the thick covers so Gothmog could lay Mairon on the bed. Mairon screamed at the jolt of being put down again. Melkor reached over to grab Mairon’s hand. Mairon squeezed Melkor’s hand enough to cause pain, but gradually Mairon relaxed. Melkor sent a small bit of power to make the Maia sleep.

“My Lord,” the head healer said from the door. “What happened?”

“Mairon was hit in the left side with an arrow,” Gothmog replied.

“Here, let me have a look,” said the healer, a dark haired elf woman who had proven her worth over the years.

Melkor and Gothmog stepped aside to allow the healer to do her work. The healer gestured to those she had brought with her. One of them walked over and pulled the tunic over Mairon’s head. Mairon moaned even in his sleep. Melkor kicked the wall. He did not like seeing Mairon like this. He hated seeing the Maia wounded in his service.

“Bring me some salve,” the healer commanded. “The bleeding seems to have stopped, but I want to close this wound up as much as possible to prevent infection.”

Mairon hissed and groaned as the healer applied a salve. Melkor found himself grabbing a vase off the table beside where he stood with Gothmog. He crushed the vase in his hand, but he did not feel better. He began pacing the room.

“Are you sure you know what you are doing?” Melkor asked.

“Of course, My Lord. I have dealt with many arrow wounds while in your service. Please let me tend to him,” The healer replied firmly.

The healer knelt down beside the bed. She put her hands on Mairon’s side and began whispering words of a healing spell. Melkor was not sure about this. She had never healed a Maia before. Would these spells work the same on Mairon. There had to be something he could do to help.

“My Lord,” Gothmog whispered, walking up beside where Melkor was pacing.

“Yes, Gothmog,” Melkor snapped. “What is it?

“Perhaps Mairon will be hungry when he wakes,” Gothmog said.

“Yes, you are right,” Melkor said softly. “I will go to the kitchens and have them get Mairon some broth and his favorite bread with honey.”

Melkor left and walked quickly towards the kitchens. The staff was startled by his entry. Melkor never came to the kitchens.

“Lieutenant Mairon has been injured. He needs some broth and bread with honey. Have it brought to our room,” Melkor commanded.

Melkor stalked out of the kitchens. He considered going directly to the dungeons, but taking care of Mairon came first. When he reentered the bedroom, Mairon’s eyes were open. Mairon looked like he was in less pain. Bandages were wrapped around his chest. He lay on his other, uninjured side. Melkor let himself breathe easier. Mairon was going to be all right.

“He is bandaged, my Lord,” The Healer said. “He should eat something and then sleep. I will return in a few hours to put on more salve and change the bandages.”

“I will take care of that myself,” Melkor said firmly. “You have done well. I will see to it that you are justly rewarded. I already ordered food for Mairon from the kitchens. I will make sure that he eats and then sleeps.”

“My Lord,” the Healer replies. She nods and then walks out.

“If Mairon needs anything, My Lord, do not hesitate to send for me,” Gothmog said. He seemed reluctant to leave.

“I will, Captain Gothmog. I know you care for Mairon deeply as do I. Thank you for taking care of him on the field. I will see to it that you are rewarded as well. Now, though, it is my responsibility to care for him. If I have need of your service I will send for you,” Melkor replied.

As Gothmog left, a kitchen attendant entered carrying a tray loaded with a bowl of broth and a plate of bread drizzled with honey. Melkor took the tray and ordered the attendant out. He shut the door. Through everything Mairon had still not said a word.

“Here, Mairon,” Melkor said softly. “I have some food for you.” Melkor laid the tray on the bedside table and pulled a chair over.

“Not hungry,” Mairon said in a weary, cracking voice.

“You need to eat,” Melkor said softly. “You will feel better with some food in you. I will feed it to you. Just sit up a little bit for me.”

Melkor helped Mairon sit up, still leaning towards his uninjured side. Then Melkor sat down in the chair. He picked up the bowl of soup. He took the spoon and began slowly feeding it to Mairon. Mairon was reluctant at first, but soon hunger won out over exhaustion. With Melkor’s help, Mairon drank the whole bowl. Then Melkor picked up a piece of honey bread. He pulled off a smaller piece and fed it to Mairon. Mairon ran his tongue over the honey and purred. Mairon did always enjoy sweet things. Melkor fed three pieces to Mairon before the Maia had enough.

“Sleep now, Precious,” Melkor gently murmured. “I will sit here and keep watch over you.”

“Join me Master,” Mairon begged. “I do not like sleeping alone.”

Melkor nodded. When Mairon moved to pull his breeches off, Melkor quickly helped Mairon remove them. Mairon always slept naked, and Melkor wanted his Maia to be as comfortable as possible. Melkor walked around the bed and slid onto the other side. He gently pulled Mairon into his arms and held him.

“Sleep, Little One,” Melkor said. “I will be here when you wake.”

Melkor pushed the hair back from Mairon’s face and leaned in to kiss his cheek. He gently stroked Mairon’s hair and ear. He began to hum a song Mairon had written for him, a soothing tune that soon had Mairon’s eyes closing. Finally the Maia’s breathing evened out and Melkor knew he was asleep.

Melkor stayed watch all night. He forced himself to stay awake. He wanted to be able to help if Mairon woke and needed anything. And, if he was honest with himself, he also wanted to be assured that Mairon was okay. He knew if he slept he would only have nightmares of losing Mairon. Mairon was more important to him than he was even willing to admit to himself. He would be lost without his Little Flame. With Melkor here to protect him, no harm could come to Mairon. His Maia would be safe.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is for someone who requested Melkor playing with Mairon's hair.

Melkor opened his eyes and yawned. As usual, the other half of the bed was empty. Mairon was always the first one awake. Melkor heard splashing coming from their bathing room. Mairon must be in the bath. Melkor quickly slipped out of bed. What better way to start he day than with sharing a bath with his Maia?

Melkor walked across the room, slipping out of his breeches as he went. He pulled open the door and walked completely naked into the bathing room. Steam was everywhere. Mairon always liked his baths as hot as he could get them. Melkor finally spied his lieutenant. Mairon was wearing an unbelted crimson robe. He was currently brushing his hair.

Melkor watched hungrily as Mairon ran the brush through his golden locks. Melkor never tired of looking at Mairon’s hair. It looked like pure spun gold. It was shimmering perfection and one of Mairon’s best features. Melkor slipped silently behind Mairon and wrapped his arms around him.

“I can take care of that for you,” Melkor whispered in Mairon’s ear.

“Mmmmm, yes,” Mairon purred contentedly as he dropped the brush and leaned back into Melkor’s embrace.

Melkor reached up and began running his fingers through Mairon’s still damp hair. The golden locks felt as smooth as silk against his skin. He played with each bit he took in his hands, running it over his fingers. He began to gently tug at the locks in the way he knew Mairon liked. Mairon moaned loudly. Sometimes Melkor thought that Mairon kept his hair long just to tempt Melkor into playing with it.

“Yes, right there,” Mairon whined. His body was wriggling against Melkor now, pressing against parts of Melkor that were quickly growing harder.

Melkor continued to tug at Mairon’s hair, alternating with gentle caresses. He twisted a lock around a finger, enjoying the way the curl looked against his own burnt skin. He leaned down to inhale the scent of honey from the oil Mairon always used on his hair.

“I see you already took your morning bath,” Melkor whispered in Mairon’s ear, leaning in to take a little nibble at the tip.

“Yes, but I could always take another one if you would care to join me,” Mairon purred back. “There is no such thing as too many baths, especially when the company is enjoyable.”

“I would never turn down a morning bath with my lieutenant,” Melkor said with a smirk. “Besides, there are other parts of you I would like to play with next, and perhaps you want a turn to play.”

“Yes,” Mairon replied smirking back. “It seems that there is some part of you that really wants to be played with.”

“That part always wants to play with you,” Melkor purred.

Melkor let go of Mairon and walked over to the bathing pool. He quickly slid into the hot water and turned back to Mairon. Mairon slowly slid the crimson robe off, letting Melkor drink in every inch of him. Then he slid himself into the water and sank beneath the surface.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mairon gives Melkor a massage.

Melkor sighed and leaned back in his throne. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. His blackened hands were throbbing. He had been trying to get work done all day, but the ache had become too great to ignore.

Melkor’s eyes flew open as he felt a familiar weight settle on his lap. Mairon was making himself comfortable, his knees resting at the sides of the throne as he straddled Melkor’s lap. Without saying a word, Mairon reached out to take one of Melkor’s hands.

Melkor moaned as Mairon began to massage his aching hand. Mairon started with gentle pressure, a stroking touch with his soft hands that felt so good. Slowly he began to press harder, working on throbbing muscles and sensitive tendons. Mairon knew just where to press. Melkor moaned again and closed his eyes. He felt the press of Mairon’s lips on his palm and wrist. Mairon then moved to the other hand and repeated the same motions. Slowly the ache began to recede.

“That feels so good, Precious,” Melkor murmured.

“I am glad, Master,” Mairon said. “I saw that you were in pain this morning. You should have asked me to do this earlier.”

“You had work to take care of, “Melkor replied softly. “As did I.”

“My most important work is taking care of you, Master,” Mairon said firmly.

As Mairon continued to massage Melkor’s hands, he began to lean forward to use more pressure. His hips began to move. Melkor groaned as Mairon pressed up against him in ways that felt a little too good.

“Mairon,” Melkor purred.

“Yes, Master?” Mairon asked, trying to sound innocent even with the smirk on his face.

“You keep wriggling your hips like that, and this is going to turn into a very different sort of massage. One involving far less clothing.” Melkor replied as he reached up with his free hand to stroke Mairon’s golden hair.

“If you wanted me to undress, all you had to do was ask, Master,” Mairon said. Mairon reached down to grasp the end of his tunic. He pulled the tunic over his head.

“Now, Master,” Mairon purred. “Is there somewhere else you’d like me to massage?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curumo finds Melkor in Aule's forge. Written for Angbang Fluffy February.

Curumo heard voices inside the forge. It sounded like someone was talking, and it was not a voice he recognized. Mairon was supposed to be alone. He had offered to finish the work so Curumo and the others could leave a few hours early.

“Yesssssss,” the voice said. It sounded almost like a moan.

“Mairon,” Curumo called out as he forced open the door. “Mairon, what is going on? Who is there?”

Inside the forge, a strange dark figure stood there. He was tall and large and clothed in a black cloak that looked like shadows around him. The cloak was so big it made the Vala look even more imposing than he would otherwise. had never seen this one before, but he knew who it must be. It was the dark one, the one who was supposed to be far away from here.

“What are you doing here?” Curumo asked, trying to show courage that he did not feel.

“Who are you to ask, little Maia?” Melkor replied. His voice sounded strained.

“Where is Mairon?” Curumo demanded.

“Your fellow Maia left. I believe he was looking for you.” Melkor grunted. His hands were in front of his cloak.

Did Melkor’s cloak just move? Curumo shuddered. “You should not be here,” he said.

“I can be wherever I please,” Melkor replied. “Are you going to stop me, Maia of….ohhhhhhh?

“No, but Lord Aule and the others can. I but need to call them,” Curumo said. What was wrong with Melkor? Was he shaking? His cloak again looked as if it was moving.

“Be gone then,” Melkor hissed. “Why not go tell your Masters where I am.”

Curumo took a step back as Melkor lunged forward. He turned and ran from the Forge. He was no match for the Dark One. Better tell Lord Aule and let him handle it. He slammed the door behind him and did not stop running until he was at Lord Aule’s door.

“Well, it took him long enough to leave,” Mairon said from within Melkor’s cloak.

“Finish what you started,” Melkor purred. He moaned as Mairon slid his mouth back onto his length.

“That’s it, Precious,” Melkor groaned. He was nearing his release. He was glad the other Maia had left so quickly. He was not sure he could have restrained himself much longer.

Melkor pulled his cloak back off so he could look down at his Little Flame. Mairon was robeless and shirtless, his golden hair flowing around his shoulders in waves. Melkor was pleased that one so talented and brilliant was also stunningly beautiful. Mairon was also, clearly, already as skilled at this as he was with his words. His mouth was perfection when he wrapped it around Melkor. Melkor knew already that he would never tire of this.

“Fuck,” Melkor groaned as he spilled his seed down Mairon’s open throat. Mairon swallowed every drop. Then the Maia licked Melkor’s length clean. He looked up at Melkor with a smirk in his eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing and exactly the affect it had on Melkor.

“You should go now, Master,” Mairon murmured as he stood.

“As should you, Little Flame,” Melkor replied. “I said that you were out looking for that one. So better that he finds you somewhere else but here.”

Melkor’s eyes were firmly on Mairon’s arse as the Maia walked over to his neat pile of clothes and bent over to grab his shirt off the top. Melkor watched Mairon slip on his shirt and robe.

“I know what you want, Master,” Mairon purred. “Finish your fortress, and then I will come and give all of myself to you.”

“Soon, Mairon,” Melkor said as he pulled the Maia into his embrace. “I long for it as much as you. Utumno is almost completed, and then my Lieutenant will join me.”

“Mmmm,” Mairon murmured from Melkor’s embrace. “Well, I hope it does not take as long. And I promise that my arse will feel just as good as my lips do.”

Melkor groaned as Mairon slipped out of his embrace. The two left the forge together and then split up. Melkor quickly walked to his secret entrance into Valinor. He was determined to finish his fortress as soon as possible. These separations were getting harder. In more ways than one.


	6. Letting Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annatar can never quite manage to control his body's reactions.

Annatar let his eyes slide closed as Celebrimbor’s tongue traced over the underside of his cock. He tried to focus on his breathing. He needed to keep his composure; to make sure Celebrimbor understood who had the power in their relationship. Yet he had never been good at controlling his reactions, and Celebrimbor knew exactly how best to use his mouth.

It had been so easy to get the elf to fall to his knees before him. It only took a few compliments and the press of a warm, naked body against his back before Celebrimbor was ready and eager to please. He knew how his beauty affected the elf. In the time he had been in Eregion, he had learned most of Celebrimbor’s desires and exactly how to appeal to every one of them. Now they were both naked in Annatar’s bedroom, Celebrimbor kneeling before the Maia, pressing kisses against the side of the engorged length.

Seducing Celebrimbor was one of the best ideas Annatar had thought of in a long time. The elf was perfect in every way, willing to do or try anything Annatar asked of him. Yes, he had a purpose in Eregion, but there was no reason not to enjoy himself in the process. Especially since bedding Celebrimbor also helped further his goals.

“That’s it, Tyelpe,” He murmured as Celebrimbor finally took him into his mouth.

Celebrimbor slid down deep. He had little experience, but he more than made up for it in enthusiasm. He pushed hard, trying to take in as much as possible. Annatar let Celebrimbor set his own pace. It was all he could do to restrain the noises that tried to bubble up his throat and to keep himself upright.

A loud moan forced its way Annatar’s lips. The sight of the elf on his knees before him and the feel of the warm, wet mouth wrapped around him was too much. His legs were shaking, and it took far too much effort to keep himself upright. He wanted the elf to trust him and rely on him. Collapsing would not be conducive to showing his power, yet Annatar was not sure he could stop.

“Come Tyelpe,” Annatar said as he pulled his length out of Celebrimbor’s mouth with effort. If his body would not cooperate with his attempts at control, he would try this another way.

Celebrimbor let Annatar lead him over to the bed. Annatar helped Celebrimbor lay down on his back. Celebrimbor seemed to know exactly what Annatar wanted. Annatar slid up onto the bed on top of Celebrimbor. He straddled the elf, his length bobbing over Celebrimbor’s face. Annatar looked down at him hungrily. Celebrimbor obediently opened his mouth for Annatar’s cock.

Annatar slid inside in one smooth thrust. He hit the back of Celebrimbor’s throat. Celebrimbor gagged slightly, but he managed to take it all. Celebrimbor sucked around the length eagerly, tasting every inch. Annatar keened, the pleasure almost too much. Celebrimbor’s mouth felt so good. Annatar slid back out and then back down with a loud groan.

Celebrimbor let Annatar fuck his mouth. He moaned around Annatar’s length, and the vibrations felt amazing. Annatar tried to take his time, moving slowly in and out of the inviting wet heat. When Celebrimbor began stroking his tongue against Annatar’s cock, though, Annatar’s hips thrust faster and faster. He reached won to balance against the pillows for leverage as he claimed the elf’s mouth over and over again. His moans filled the air.

Celebrimbor choked on Annatar’s length, as one thrust pressed a little too hard and deep. Annatar barely noticed. He was too focused on his rising pleasure. He could feel his release nearing. His thrusts grew more and more forceful, fucking Celebrimbor’s mouth the way he would his arse. Celebrimbor whined against him, but the elf did not push him away.

Annatar thrust once more deep into Celebrimbor’s mouth and came. His seed spurted down Celebrimbor’s throat. Celebrimbor swallowed every drop. The elf reached out and stroked against Annatar’s stones, trying to get every last bit of seed. Finally, when every drop was gone and his length thoroughly cleaned, Annatar pulled out. Celebrimbor gasped and panted. Annatar reached out to stroke Celebrimbor’s hair.

“I am sorry, Tyelpe,” Annatar murmured. “I let myself get carried away. Your mouth felt so good.”

“No, Annatar, it was good,” Celebrimbor replied. “I was glad I could please you. I enjoyed it too.”

“Good,” Annatar purred. “Sleep now. Perhaps I will return the favor later.”

Celebrimbor moaned. His own length was still half hard. Annatar slid off and lay down beside the elf. He laid his head on Celebrimbor’s chest and watched as Celebrimbor finally let his eyes close. He was starting to grow attached to the elf. He only hoped that when everything finally came together he could convince the elf to join him. He was not sure he was willing to let Celebrimbor go.


	7. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lord of Gifts provides all, even that which Celebrimbor never dares ask.

Celebrimbor bent over his work, trying to make the metal do what he wanted it to. This was his fifth attempt today. Annatar’s suggestions of ways to strengthen the metal to create more durable work had made sense to him. Yet he could not achieve what he wanted. The metal simply was not durable enough to handle all of the shaping.

“Let me see,” Annatar whispered from behind him in his seductive voice that never failed to generate a response in Celebrimbor. Celebrimbor had not heard him come in, but the Maia was always there it seemed. Annatar walked silently, almost as if he floated over the ground. It was as if he was too otherworldly for the world around to affect him.

Celebrimbor shivered. He was glad the table blocked the front of his body from Annatar’s view, because his reaction to Annatar’s presence was clearly visible at the front of his breeches. Annatar was a Maia. He was ethereal and powerful. He was fairer than all others Celebrimbor had ever known. He surely had no interest in Celebrimbor’s foolish attraction.

“Annatar, let me keep working. I will get this right,” Celebrimbor said

“Tyelpe, turn around, let me see. Perhaps I can show you where the error lies,” Annatar said firmly.

Celebrimbor turned, breathing slowly and trying to get his body under control. Yet when he saw Annatar his length twitched again. Annatar stood before him, golden hair down and hanging around his face and shoulders. He was more beautiful than all the fair beings in Arda. He wore only a loose grey tunic with the top unlaced, black boots, and a pair of tight black trousers. The top of Annatar’s chest was visible, and the trousers clung to Annatar’s frame in a way that emphasized every perfect angle. Celebrimbor could barely focus on anything but the Maia’s form.

“Annatar…” Celebrimbor started. “Annatar, I tried as you suggested. The metal is not strong enough.”

“It will work, Tyelpe,” Annatar purred. He was closer now, standing right in front of Celebrimbor. “Give it time. I will show you how to achieve it.”

“I believe you, Annatar,” Celebrimbor replied, a slight tremor in his voice. “I believe that with you we can accomplish anything.”

“Tell me what it is you desire,” Annatar whispered, his hand reaching out to brush against Celebrimbor’s face.”

“You have already given us so much,” Celebrimbor said softly. “I would ask for nothing but that you share with us as much of your knowledge as you wish.”

“That is not all you want,” Annatar purred. “I am the Lord of Gifts. I would give you everything.”

Annatar pulled Celebrimbor in and pressed his lips against the elf’s. Celebrimbor moaned against Annatar’s mouth. He could scarcely believe this was happening. He let Annatar pull him close. Celebrimbor opened his mouth against Annatar’s as Annatar slid his tongue over Celebrimbor’s lips. Annatar explored Celebrimbor’s mouth. Celebrimbor pressed himself harder against Annatar, deepening the kiss. He groaned when Annatar brushed a hand over the bulge in his trousers. He grew harder by the second, desperate for Annatar’s touch.

When Annatar finally pulled away, Celebrimbor was panting. His head was pounding. It felt like a dream. He had dreamt of this moment so many times that this could almost be another dream. Except Annatar was really here, touching him, and it felt better than he ever imagined it could.

While Celebrimbor tried to collect his thoughts, Annatar’s hands wandered down to Celebrimbor’s trousers. Annatar quickly unlaced them and pulled out Celebrimbor’s length. He ran a hand teasingly down it, looking steadily into Celebrimbor’s eyes as he did so.

“Annatar,” Celebrimbor moaned. “What….”

“Shhhh, hush now Tyelpe,” Annatar purred, putting a finger from his other hand over Celebrimbor’s lips. “Do not think, just feel. Let the Lord of Gifts take care of you.”

Annatar finally wrapped his hand around Celebrimbor’s length. He began to stroke slowly. The feel of his soft skin against Celebrimbor was intoxicating. Celebrimbor could do nothing but give in. He let himself relax into Annatar’s touch.

Celebrimbor moaned helplessly as Annatar’s grip tightened. Annatar’s pace quickened, his hand sliding over Celebrimbor’s aching length. Celebrimbor gripped the table. His legs were shaking, and he was sure he would collapse if his hands let go. Annatar’s other hand reached down to stroke against Celebrimbor’s stones.

“Fuck,” Celebrimbor gasped as he spurted his seed into Annatar’s finger. He rode out his high, panting and leaning against the table for support. By the time he managed to pull himself together, Annatar had already wiped his hand clean.

“Now, let me show you how to strengthen the metal properly,” Annatar said. His tone was focused as if nothing had changed between them at all.


End file.
